Out of the Unknown
by SarahBear1214
Summary: Greg and Wirt defeated the Beast and found their path home- but that path was only reserved for one of them. Back in the regular world, Greg goes through the years without his brother, and with the Unknown in the back of his mind. One-shot, loosely inspired by starfleetrambo's Garden Falls.


**Author's Note: So I read starfleetrambo's GF/OTGW crossover "Garden Falls", which was amazing and got me thinking about Greg growing up alone with his brother still in the Unknown. This is a one-shot looking at different times in Greg's life, as he gets older and his thoughts and feelings about what happened change.**

 **Disclaimer: Of course I don't own any of these characters, and even the AU inspiration for this came from another piece of fan work**

Greg was six years old when he tumbled into a freezing pond with his older brother and found himself in a strange place called the Unknown.

Greg and Wirt wandered in the Unknown for what felt like weeks, coming across all kinds of funny stuff. Among other things, they met a talking blue bird named Beatrice, a nice old woodsman, a bunch of pumpkin people, a schoolhouse for animals, singing frogs, a mean witch named Adelaide, and a terrible Beast that tried to turn them into trees.

Side by side, Greg traveled the Unknown with his brother, looking for their way home and besting mighty foes. However, when they finally found their path back— when it was finally time to go home— Wirt did not return with him. The Beast that tried to make him stay had been defeated, but even still he would not come. He tried to explain it to Greg, telling him that he just could not leave, that Greg would understand when he got back, or that he'd understand when he was older. Wirt couldn't say how he knew that he had to stay— he just did. He could feel it. He told Greg a lot of things, told him not to worry or be sad, told him that he was sorry for everything, and even told him what he had never said before, that he loved him.

Greg hadn't wanted to go without Wirt. He had refused. After all, he was still the leader, and it was his job to get them both home, just like Wirt had said. That was why he had tried to make a deal with the Beast in the first place. He would do whatever it took to get them home together.

Eventually, Wirt talked him into it by admitting that he only had to stay a little bit longer, that he would be right behind Greg, and promising that they would see each other again soon. And so, Greg walked that bright path alone, back to the world of living, out of the Unknown, to wait for his brother on the other side.

* * *

Greg was six years old when his older brother died. They fell together into a freezing pond, and Wirt hit his head and drowned.

Greg was very confused when, while walking the path from the Unknown, he suddenly found himself underwater. His head felt heavy, and his chest hurt so bad, and he needed to get back to the surface. He saw his brother a few feet away, eyes still closed. He swam to him, and tried with all of his might to pull him back up— but Wirt was too heavy. As much as Greg pulled and pulled and pulled, he could not raise Wirt more than a few inches. He wanted to keep trying forever, but he felt dizzy and weak, and black dots started to fill his vision, and Wirt was now steadily sinking, no longer rising at all with Greg's pulls. Every inch of Greg's body was screaming at him to get air. And he did. He left Wirt, found his way to the shore, and promptly passed out. When he awoke in the hospital a day later, his mother, with tears running down her face, hugged him and told him the awful, awful news. His brother was gone.

The next few months were full of people crying, and telling him how sorry they were. His mother was so sad that sometimes she wouldn't even leave her bed for days at a time. His dad tried to comfort her, but told Greg that he just didn't know what to do. There was a funeral, and Sara the Bee broke down in tears and hugged him so tightly he thought his bones would break. Everybody spoke to him in very soft voices and never scolded him. Even Old Lady Daniels, when he tried to return the rock facts rock he stole and apologize, cried and told him that of course he didn't have to say he was sorry, and that he could have any rock he wanted from her garden. Greg had never had anyone tell him he should not apologize for stealing before.

Greg kept trying to tell everyone that it was okay. Wirt was not really gone— he was just in the Unknown, and he would be coming home soon enough, and they would see because he had promised and Wirt wouldn't break a promise. And whenever he told anyone that, they got a very funny look on their face, and told him that, sure, Wirt wasn't really gone, and they were sure he would see him again someday. But the way they said it was weird, so Greg knew that they didn't really believe him.

That was okay though. He didn't need to be believed. Wirt would come back, and then they would see, and everything would be alright.

* * *

Greg was nine years old when he stopped believing that Wirt would come home.

It wasn't that he just lost hope, or didn't believe in his brother. Greg had always been a positive kid; like the old people always said, you could do anything you set your mind to. He believed in Wirt, he believed in miracles, and he believed in happy endings. Greg's attitude hadn't changed.

What changed was that by the time Greg was nine, he had realized what the Unknown actually was. It wasn't a sudden realization, but something he just understood and accepted over the years. When he was six, he had been confused to suddenly find himself drowning in the water, and the following months were so awful and crazy that he hadn't really thought about it. But as time went by, he started to wonder how he could have got from the pond to the forest of the Unknown and back.

And really, once he started to wonder about that, there was only one explanation that made any sense. The Unknown was the afterlife, and he had went there because he was drowning and dying. That meant the reason Wirt couldn't walk the path home was because he had died, and Greg knew that people who died couldn't just not be dead anymore. He wasn't really sure what he had thought would happen before. He had seen Wirt's body, and he guessed that he should have known that he couldn't possibly come back to life. But Wirt had promised, and so Greg had just trusted that there would be a way.

But now, he was older. Now, he knew better. Wirt had lied, and even though they said lying was wrong, Greg was not mad, because he knew that Wirt had only lied so that Greg would not be stuck in the Unknown too. Greg comforted himself with knowing that the Beast was gone, and so the Unknown probably wasn't so bad anymore. There were nice people there, like Mrs. Langtree, and Uncy Endicott, and Beatrice, and Lorna, and the Woodsman. He was sure that Wirt would be okay there. He wasn't _gone_ gone, and when Greg died, he would get to see him again.

Of course, there was one other possible explanation for what the Unknown was, but Greg refused to think about it.

* * *

Greg was fifteen when he started to wonder if the Unknown was real at all.

For six years he was convinced that he knew what the Unknown was. It was the afterlife, and his brother Wirt was living there happily, waiting for him. It was a nice thought, and because it was a nice thought, Greg believed it.

But as he got older, doubts started to creep in, no matter how much he didn't want them to. After all, he had nothing to really _prove_ that the Unknown was real. It was all so vivid, but that didn't necessarily make it true. After all, people had near death experiences all the time, and he had never heard of anyone claiming that they wound up in a forest with a Beast and a bunch of weird people and creatures.

Well, he didn't exactly have zero proof. He visited Wirt's grave fairly regularly, leaving flowers and rock facts rocks. During those trips to the cemetery, he had looked around at the other headstones and found familiar names: _Quincy Endicott, Langtree, Beatrice_. It was enough to pretty much convince Greg he was right, and he'd smile in relief.

But underneath the smile, that stupid, doubting voice would speak up.

 _You could have seen the headstones when you and Wirt were in the graveyard before going over the wall. You could have subconsciously remembered them, and that's why you met people with those names._

Greg could not quite shut the voice up, and even though he still believed in the afterlife, still believed Wirt was out there, happily waiting for him, he could no longer deny the possibility that his brother's and his strange journey into the Unknown was nothing more than a dream.

* * *

Greg was sixteen when he finally felt the full weight of his brother's death.

Sixteen— the same age Wirt was when he died.

Greg was upset in a way that he hadn't ever been before. It was like he'd spent the last ten years in the first stage of grief, and only now was he moving past that denial to the other four stages.

He was angry because of how unfair the whole thing was. It wasn't just that he'd lost his brother, although of course that sucked. But his mother had never been the same since then either. She had to see a therapist, which helped some, but not enough. She and his father fought all the time, and while they never said as much, Greg thought that they might only still be together for his sake. His mom and dad were good people, and Greg always tried his best to be good, and Wirt had definitely been good. None of them had done anything to deserve this, so Greg was angry.

He was sad too, not only because he missed his brother, but also because he had almost entirely forgotten him. Memories when you're that young just don't last well. There were pictures of Wirt around the house, but he couldn't remember his voice. He knew he was dressed as a gnome that final, fatal Halloween, but he didn't remember what Wirt wore the Halloweens before that. He tried to think of specific memories with his brother, but other than the ones in the Unknown, they were all so vague and undetailed. Greg realized he didn't really know his brother at all, and now he would never get the chance.

As for bargaining, he had nothing to bargain. He'd tried bargaining with the Beast back in the Unknown, but that didn't really change anything. Wirt still hadn't been allowed to come back. He was dead, and nothing Greg did could fix that. He supposed that convincing himself that the Unknown was real and Wirt was happy there was sort of like bargaining. But even that seemed less and less likely by the day. Even if it somehow wasn't all a dream, the Unknown was a scary and dangerous place, and something awful could have happened to Wirt there.

All in all, Greg was pretty miserable at sixteen. His parents, his brother, and troubles at school weighed heavily on him. He'd always been a positive kid, but it was getting harder and harder to stay that way, and a lot of days he just stopped bothering to try.

Others didn't understand why he was so upset. Wirt had died ten years ago, and for the past decade, Greg had been more or less okay. Sad that his brother was gone, sure, but relatively okay. They thought he'd had plenty of time to process his grief, and there was no reason for him to struggle with it so much now. To an extent, Greg thought they were right. Even he didn't really know why he was so bothered all of a sudden. Maybe it was teenage hormones, or maybe he had just finally wised up to the fact that life could be shitty and wasn't guaranteed a happy ending.

Whatever the reason, Greg was struggling. And the final stage of grief— acceptance— felt as far away as his brother in the Unknown.

* * *

Greg was twenty-one when finally felt that acceptance.

College had made things much better. As much as he loved his parents, he felt like he could breathe easier now that he was away from them. Somewhat to his surprise, they hadn't gotten a divorce when he was finally out of the house. They instead went to couples therapy, and it sounded like things were improving, although he wasn't around enough to really know for sure.

College was a clean slate in other ways too. It was nice that nobody knew him; he no longer was "the brother of that kid who died", but could instead just be "Greg". Even though he'd been uncharacteristically reserved in his later teen years, he was still a very naturally bubbly and outgoing guy. Always up for fun and adventure, Greg quickly made some really good friends. He even met a girl, Emily, with pretty brown eyes and cute little freckles, who was funny and smart and so, so kind. They dated a year, and even though he was heartbroken when they broke up, he'd learned a long time ago how to deal with sorrow, and he hadn't let it dampen his spirits for too long. And he then realized that his spirits had been higher than they'd been in years, and he felt like he was fourteen again, full of optimism and hope and excitement for everything life had to offer.

He decided to become a doctor. Specifically, a pediatrician. He'd changed his mind for careers about a billion times, and had even thought he wanted to be a doctor several times before, but this time he felt certain. His life had been turned upside down by a childhood accident, and he wanted to be there for other kids going through rough times. And with that goal firmly in mind, he felt he'd found his place in the world.

Greg still didn't know if the Unknown was real, and he didn't know if Wirt was waiting out there. But he chose to believe it. Even if it was a lie, it was a very lovely lie. And if he was wrong, then maybe that wasn't so bad either. After all, everybody dies eventually; no matter what, Wirt was in good company. So, Greg decided to hope for the best, and accept that whatever happened, happened. And he knew that was what Wirt would want.


End file.
